Chapter 52
An inn near the square.
The weather had grown rather warm for spring. Even though the sun had dipped below the mountain ridge, its heat still lingered on the ground.
Despite the warmth, three men who looked suspicious by any measure had their robes pulled up to their necks as they peered out the window, rough silver pewter tankards as big as their faces set before them.
Before long, the square beyond the window grew noisy. At the sight of a man riding a black horse, the villagers began to crowd around him.
“It’s the Grand Duke. It looks like he’s carrying Lady Eleonore in his arms.”
Amid the silence that settled over the table, the first to move his lips was the sickly-looking man. In a voice devoid of emotion, Ernst quietly reported only what he could see.
Looking at the platinum-blond hair trailing down from Dmitri’s arms, Christian, seated beside him, spoke.
“So Lady Eleonore was the one who got caught up in it after all. Ha, fate can be so cruel.”
Then Christian picked up the enormous pewter tankard in front of him. It was surely the largest mug in the inn, but in his hand it looked no bigger than an ordinary cup of water.
“Will the young lady be all right?”
Christian asked as he raised the tankard to his lips. His gaze turned toward the silver-haired man before him, but Ernst, seated beside him, answered in his stead.
“The antidote we brought back is a top-grade one, blessed by the High Priest himself. No matter how frail Lady Eleonore is, as long as she’s still breathing, she should be all right.”
While the two men talked, Julian sat across from them. He hadn’t said a word since entering the inn.
His gaze was fixed on the Grand Duke and Eleonore, her body limp in his arms. His red eyes blazed like the fires of hell.
Julian said nothing, only glaring at them until Dmitri disappeared inside the doctor’s house.
“Haa. Ernst, are the preparations ready?”
“I’ve contacted the people you personally brought into your fold in the East, my lord. They should reach the capital by tomorrow at the latest.”
“That’s too late. We can’t wait until tomorrow. If only those people came here, the rest must have gone straight to the capital.”
At Julian’s words, Ernst replied quickly.
“It was the best we could do given the circumstances.”
“I’m not blaming you, Ernst. I was only asking if you were ready. It’s your first time in the field, after all.”
Julian picked up the pewter tankard before him and drained it in one gulp. Then he carefully took hold of the saber’s hilt, its smooth curve following the line of the scabbard.
Only then did Ernst give a small nod.
Watching the two men, Christian looked more animated than he had in ages.
“Haaah! It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to stretch my legs! I wonder how many Shilobs have awakened by now?”
The first to rise was Christian, stretching with a broad grin at the thought of the battle to come.
#.
Once the immediate crisis was over, Dmitri found his thoughts turning to everything else.
The mine he was about to take over from House Béarn was a problem. And so was the question of why a Shilob had claimed the mine as its own.
Thanks to advances in magical engineering, magic stones had become worth whatever price sellers cared to ask. The only reason the ignorant rabble of the South, who had once owned nothing, had grown so rapidly was magic stones.
And now a mine rich in magic stones had been found near the capital, rather than in the far-off South. It would be that much easier to transport them, too.
If he put the magic stone mine he was about to take over to good use, he could put out the immediate fire. No—he’d no longer have to bow his head in shame and beg for food.
The only question was whether House Béarn would hand over the mine so readily once they learned it was full of magic stones.
The contract they had made was heavily skewed in favor of the Grand Ducal House of Verbritz. House Béarn would retain ownership, but the Grand Ducal House of Verbritz would manage the mine and take nine-tenths of its profits.
Worse, their contract was verbal, not written. If they had recorded the precise terms in a document, he wouldn’t have to worry like this.
Besides, Albris Béarn was no pushover. Even a fool would realize it the moment they spoke to him, however briefly.
The contract certainly seemed to be nothing but a boon for the Grand Ducal House of Verbritz. But in the basket called a mine that House Béarn had handed over, a poisoned apple called a dowry had been hidden.
And what was inside wasn’t anything other than a Shilob.
Of course, a Shilob wasn’t an impossible monster to deal with. Its shell was hard and it had potent poison, but it was still an insect, and therefore weak to fire. Its legs—and even its infamous venomous stinger—couldn’t pierce thick armor, either.
The problem was that, while it was a monster that favored dark, damp places, it wasn’t the sort of creature one would expect to find near the capital.
Shilobs were found only on the eastern frontier and in the jungles of the South. There were no records of them appearing anywhere beyond those regions.
Which meant someone had released a Shilob inside the mine.
Had they released it knowing there were magic stones in the mine? And what purpose had they had in releasing it?
If all they wanted was to drive away intruders, there were plenty of other monsters that would have done a better job.
If their aim wasn’t the magic stones but the Shilob’s poison… the capital’s politics would surely grow turbulent again, just as they had when the former empress died.
“I’ve finished treating her.”
Dorio, the doctor, approached Dmitri, who sat leaning against the sofa with a troubled expression. Wrinkles crinkled around the corners of his long, narrow eyes, and exhaustion weighed heavily on his face.
“How is the young lady?”
“The antidote, not I, will have to deal with the poison. My granddaughter and I have only tended to the wound on the young lady’s shoulder.”
Apparently worn out by the unexpected overtime, the old doctor rolled his shoulders and continued.
“Judging by how she reacted while I was treating the wound, I don’t think her life is in danger. However…”
“However?”
Dmitri repeated the ominous conjunction.
“It’s a shame that such a lovely young lady may be left with a scar on her shoulder.”
He had been relieved to hear that it wasn’t anything life-threatening, but the doctor was right: it was still a serious matter for the young lady.
She was a beautiful young lady who had just made her debut this year. Judging by the dresses Eleonore had worn until now, she seemed to prefer styles that bared her shoulders.
Of course, Dmitri had no way of knowing that the dresses she had worn until then hadn’t been Eleonore’s own choice.
“Is there no way to prevent it?”
The doctor’s eyes turned toward the scabbard at Dmitri’s waist.
“As you know, sir, the priests at the temple are far more skilled than we are at treating wounds and helping them heal.”
“The temple? Those fellows are so rigid. I’d rather not deal with them.”
Dmitri replied through clenched teeth.
As the doctor had said, the priests’ blessings were the best treatment for injuries and their recovery. But the only temple operating properly in the Verbritz territory was the one in Verbritz City.
No matter how desperately Dmitri begged them to send a priest to the northern wall, the answer was always the same.
‘That is for God to decide.’
The old doctor then came right up to Dmitri, who was sitting against the sofa. The sharp, spicy scent of disinfectant and antidote wafting from him tickled Dmitri’s nose.
“My lord.”
“What is it?”
Dmitri eyed Dorio warily as the doctor suddenly lowered his voice.
“Even if I’m just an old countryman, I’ve served this village for over thirty years as its doctor and chief. I know what the golden lion embossed on the young lady’s brooch represents.”
Dmitri listened to Dorio in silence.
“The young lady lying in there is Lady Eleonore Béarn, the youngest daughter of House Béarn, isn’t she?”
There was still no reply. But that silence seemed to be answer enough for Dorio.
“And our lord, with his black hair and black eyes, is His Grace the Grand Duke of Verbritz, known as the Empire’s Blade.”
No sooner had Dorio finished speaking than Dmitri’s sword cut through the air. The keenly honed longsword that had sliced through the Shilob’s legs stopped just short of the old man’s wrinkled throat.
“I’m grateful you treated the young lady. But it would be best if you were the only one who knew that the woman in there is from House Béarn—or that she was brought here because of a Shilob’s poison.”
Despite Dmitri’s threatening tone, the village chief laughed heartily as if nothing were amiss and replied.
“I’ve lived long enough that I have no regrets left. But I do have a request to make of you, my lord. Please consider it kindly, and think of it as payment for the treatment.”
#.
Something brushed against her eyes, and Eleonore struggled to lift her heavy eyelids. Beyond the window, where a white linen curtain fluttered, the fresh morning sunlight streamed down onto her face.
“Haaaam.”
Just as she yawned widely in that peaceful morning and started to stretch, Eleonore’s body suddenly went rigid.
The scene before her was nothing like the mornings she was used to.
Beyond the faded glass window, lush green trees crowded around the house. But the trees in the mansion garden weren’t that overgrown. And the window frame—and its faded glass—didn’t belong to the mansion, either.
The bed was the same.
It wasn’t a soft, springy mattress that felt as if it were embracing her, but the hard, terribly narrow kind she had known back when she was Seo Juha.
The place she was lying in looked like a girl’s room, modestly decorated with various knickknacks.
That was why Eleonore spoke the names most familiar to her.
“S-Sophie? Where are you? Manuela? E-Eugenie!”
“Ah! You’re awake, my lady?”
The voice that answered was unfamiliar, too.
Startled by the sight of a girl gazing at her with bright navy-blue eyes, Eleonore sat up in bed. Or tried to.
The pain in her shoulder was the first thing to stop her from moving.
The realization that she was wearing nothing over the bandages wrapped tightly around her body blocked her thoughts.
“My lady, it’ll be difficult for you to move just yet. The wound on your shoulder was just as serious as the poison that spread through your body.”
The orange-haired girl said with a bright smile. Eleonore wrapped the rough, threadbare blanket around herself and looked at her.
“W-Who are you?”
But the words that came out were utterly unbecoming of a young lady. The girl looked at Eleonore with an affectionate gaze and said,
“This is the doctor’s house, and I’m Eily. I help my grandfather, who’s a doctor, with all sorts of things. You were brought here last night in the arms of a handsome knight. Don’t you remember, my lady?”
At Eily’s words, yesterday’s memories began to replay vividly before Eleonore’s eyes.
She had been walking alone near the mine when a spider monster attacked her.
She had called out for help in a thoroughly undignified way, and Dmitri had appeared to save her.
He had carried her back to the mine in his arms.
His rough fingers had pried open her lips and poured the neutralizing agent into her mouth.
And then, when she was back in his arms, she had nuzzled her head against his firm, warm chest as coyly as if she were flirting with him.
“My lady, I’ll go tell my grandfather and the knight that you’ve woken up.”
Watching Eleonore’s confused expression, the orange-haired girl smiled brightly and left the room.
Left alone in the room, Eleonore could only shake her head back and forth on the pillow.
“Ah… I want to die…”
#8. In Search of a Fateful Encounter — The End